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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914179">Painting by Numbers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caught_up_in_Circles/pseuds/Caught_up_in_Circles'>Caught_up_in_Circles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Riley/Desi Drabbles [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A little bit of angst, Drabble, Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:20:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caught_up_in_Circles/pseuds/Caught_up_in_Circles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An old belief is discussed and an alternative point of view is proposed.</p><p>“Hold still.” Desi drew straight line with the brush in her hand.</p><p>“I am still, and you’re an expert markswoman, it shouldn’t be difficult for you to paint my nails.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Riley Davis/Desiree "Desi" Nguyen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Riley/Desi Drabbles [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Painting by Numbers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A triple drabble this time.  I wonder how long a drabble has to become before it's not a drabble anymore, a dectuple drabble - 1000 words?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hold still.” Desi drew straight line with the brush in her hand.</p><p>“I am still, and you’re an expert markswoman, it shouldn’t be difficult for you to paint my nails.”</p><p>“Lining up a shot isn’t the same as,” Desi dipped the brush into it’s bottle, “this.”</p><p>“Because I’m not a target five hundred meters away?”</p><p>“Because your hands are lovelier than any bullseye.”</p><p>“You say the sweetest things.” Riley swatted Desi.  “Shall I do your nails?</p><p>Desi frowned down at the varnish’s name.  “Will Ice and Sweet suit me?”</p><p>“Definitely.”</p><p>Holding out a hand Desi tried to imagine it’s nails a vibrant colour. “I don’t know. I’m not a pretty girlie girl.”</p><p>Riley scoffed, “And I am?” </p><p>“More than me,” Desi expression hardened with certainty.  “I’m not like that.”</p><p>“You’re not pretty?” Riley laughed but that saw Desi was serious, Desi spoke before she could protest.</p><p>“I can’t explain it to you because you are a pretty girl.” she told Riley’s stare. “Pretty girls aren’t like me and…”</p><p>“Who decided that?”</p><p>“The world.” The old hurt gathering in her throat surprised Desi. “It tells you that when you’re young then reminds you over and over again. I don’t want sympathy, that’s just how it is. I’m not supposed to do pretty girls stuff so I don’t – I’m bad at it anyway.  Look at your nails.”</p><p>“They’re fine,” Riley pointedly admired her fingers, “and since when do you listen when you’re told not to do something?”</p><p>That surprised a laugh from Desi, “It happens.”</p><p>“Well, stop.”  Riley cupped Desi’s cheek. “You,” she leaned in, “are the prettiest girl I know.”</p><p>Desi blushed. “I…”</p><p>“You’re beautiful.  And an idiot.  My beautiful idiot. We’re going to paint your nails next.”</p><p>Stubborn reluctance melted into shy intrigue, “What colour?”</p><p>“Ice and Sweet, we’ll match.”</p>
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